“The Spanish Hour” and “The Bewitched Child” (Portland Opera)

The Opera breaks out with two less-performed one-acts.

MAURICE RAVEL

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Maurice Ravel was a childless French
bachelor whose greatest inspirations were, paradoxically, children and
Spain. The innovative composer’s affection for the former is evident in
his magical “Mother Goose,” written for two young pianists and later
orchestrated into some of the most enchanting music of the 20th century.
His love for the latter derived from his Spanish mother’s Basque
heritage—she used to sing him Spanish folk songs. Ravel’s two unlikely
amours converge this month when Portland Opera stages both of his
fabulous one-act operas, “The Spanish Hour” and “The Bewitched Child.”

For the latter’s
libretto, the great and notorious novelist Colette contrived a charming
morality tale that would entertain her 3-year-old daughter. Ravel, who
loved telling kids fantastic stories as much as he loved cats, includes a
feline duet along with wallpaper that comes to life, a singing fire,
talking trees and an animated easy chair—enough proto-psychedelic
imagery to entertain Lewis Carroll, Ken Kesey and Terry Gilliam. “It was
important that we not literally depict each character who plays a
teacup or grandfather clock,” says Portland Opera general director
Christopher Mattaliano. “Once you do realistic, you’ve left the
audience’s imagination out.”

Children wouldn’t be
an appropriate audience for the other opera on the bill, one of the
dirtiest and funniest in the repertoire. Premiered in Paris almost
exactly a century ago and based on a satirically salacious 1904 play by
Franc-Nohain, “The Spanish Hour” is a sex farce in which a bored, frisky
housewife slips in a little—actually, a lot of—action on the side when
her clockmaker husband is away.

The unusual double
bill is the Opera’s only “stretch” opera in a year when recession forced
it to cut back on offbeat productions in favor of sure-bet standard
fare. “I honor traditions, but I’m also very concerned about Portland
Opera not getting stuck, as a number of regional companies do, recycling
the same 10 or 15 standards,” says Mattaliano, who also directs both
productions.

Less familiar
repertoire and the company’s young studio artists have in recent years
proved to be far more fascinating than the warhorses that rule at the
Opera’s over-capacious regular home, Keller Auditorium, which Mattaliano
terms “a barn that’s not appropriate” for intimately scaled operas like
Ravel’s or Mozart’s. “I think this series we do every spring at the
Newmark Theatre is immensely popular because there’s a significant part
of the Portland community that loves more adventurous works,” he says.
“And the intimacy of the Newmark lets you get so close to the singers
that it has more impact.” That may explain why all four shows sold out
early, and the company added a fifth, which at press time had only a few
seats available. Like Ravel, Portland’s venturesome music fans seem
ready to embrace the unexpected.